Adore
by IwannabeaStarshipRanger21
Summary: In which Draco adores Hermione. Set in sixth year. One-shot. Dramione.


I watched as Weasly's specky hands travelled down to settle against her waist; my eyes lingering on the movement for longer than was probably socially appropriate.

Surely more than was appropriate for someone who supposedly hated the bushy haired, but merlin-so-lovely-witch across the dance floor.

Surely more, as my father would've said, than someone of my station should pay someone the likes of her.

All of this however, had not affected how much my eyes had almost subconsciously diverted back to her all night. It was as if the action was of reflex at this point.

It almost made me scoff. Almost.

I watched as Granger let out a laugh at something that git whispered to her. He somehow pulled her even closer as he did so.

It was then that I finished my fourth glass of whiskey for the evening.

The sound of her laugh – and the high, breathy quality of it – was uncomfortably close to another sound I knew she was capable of making.

I swallowed hard, looking away from the pair.

As I did I caught Blaise's eye. He looked almost sad, which made me that much more uncomfortable. He walked over to me.

"I don't want your pity, Zabini." I said bitterly.

"You should probably stop being such a pathetic sot then." He said, handing me another drink. I downed it greedily, and just as quickly pushed the empty tumbler back at him.

"I'll see you in Potions." I announced, getting up abruptly and not waiting for a response as I left the great hall.

I knew coming tonight would be a mistake. I should have known that after last week she'd want nothing more to do with me.

No matter how much I dressed up, no matter how polite I pretended to be, or how many social graces I tried to adhere to; it didn't change anything.

It didn't change what I was.

It certainly didn't change who she was, or who I was to her.

I walked swiftly, albeit a little drunkenly, up a few flights of stairs until I was on the fifth floor.

It was then that I heard her voice from behind me.

"Malfoy…" she said, somewhat out of of breath. So it was no longer _Draco_ then.

I paused, swallowing, but I didn't dare turn back around.

"What is it you want Granger? I'm off to bed so unless-"

"Can I come?" She cut me off. I immediately sobered up.

I turned around, meeting her gaze. She looked taken aback, like she wasn't expecting to ask what I think she'd just asked.

"Well I mean we share the same common room so if you're done with the ball then you would be coming anyway-" I babbled.

"That's not what I meant," she shook her head. "And you know it."

My mouth was dry. I licked my lips.

"Granger…" I started but I didn't exactly know what to say.

"I'm really sorry about last week." She stated simply, her big chocolate-brown eyes boring into mine.

I really _looked_ at her then, and I knew she wasn't lying. Although I would be surprised if someone the likes of her would even know how to lie in the first place upon thinking about it.

The memory of her staring down at my now branded left forearm flashed through my mind, and the weight of emotion I felt at it hit me like a brick.

She approached me slowly.

"It's fine." I said. It wasn't.

"No. It's not." She replied, still looking at me. It was slightly disconcerting. I'd never met anyone in my life who looked at me the way she did.

I felt fingers tangle with mine. I looked down at our joined hands.

Her skin was always so warm. I relished in the feeling a moment before I decided to continue. Because to continue might mean I'd ruin this.

"Why did you go with Weasly tonight?"

She didn't even flinch at the question.

"I wasn't sure what to say to you yet. Or even if I would want to say anything to you," she swallowed. "Ever again."

I nodded, expecting that. But it was like she'd wrapped her hand around my heart and was squeezing with all her might.

"What changed your mind?" I asked, curious.

She reached up with her spare hand and brushed some of my fringe out of my eyes.

"Watching you walk away like that just before…" She started, but then paused, searching for the words. It was like I could see her mind working.

"You know when you're on a rollercoaster and you get to one of the big dips and your stomach drops and it's like the earth just falls away for a split second?" She babbled.

I smirked. "Granger." I shook my head in amusement. "I've never been on a rollercoaster. "

"Oh right!" She all but exclaimed. But I think I understood anyway.

"You mean like the feeling you get when you're flying, and you dive, and just for the briefest of seconds before you regain control, it's like freefalling?"

"From what I remember of flying, yes, I think your analogy is even better than mine." She looked off in the distance as if experiencing a truly traumatic memory for a second.

I half smiled. I would have to take her back out on a broom one day; Potter had obviously done a poor job.

I sighed, squeezing her hand.

"Granger…" I said, staring at her seriously again.

She looked back up at me.

"I appreciate the sentiment. And the fact that you came up here to apologise. But I really don't think we should do this anymore."

I hated myself for saying it; because it was exactly the opposite of what I actually wanted. But what I wanted, I had realised, didn't really matter. Last week had changed things. I'd done something there was no coming back from.

"But you said he made you-"

"It doesn't matter if he made me! It doesn't matter if I truly wanted it! I still did it, I still let him _brand me_ _like cattle._ " I said, my voice raising. I knew it wasn't her fault; but I couldn't help the anger in my tone.

She recoiled a little. But refused to back down.

"Draco. I know this isn't what you want. I know that your heart isn't in this-"

"But don't you see! I'm telling you that doesn't matter! Just because I don't want it doesn't mean I won't hurt someone – _kill someone_ – if it means the difference between living, or never seeing you again." I said, I was gripping her hip now; I don't know when I'd moved closer. "I'm a selfish, cowardly excuse for a person Granger. When are you going to realise how dangerous this situation is?"

She bit her lip; her mouth painfully close to mine. She didn't answer.

I released her, backing away.

"What if we were to keep doing this; and he found out about you?" I said. "What do you think would happen then?"

She looked unabashedly horrified.

But she wouldn't look away from me.

She still couldn't answer me though.

I couldn't do this anymore.

I turned, finally making it to our common room door. Muttering the password, I pushed It open in a hurry,

In retrospect I shouldn't have been surprised at what happened next; but at the time I wasn't terribly worried about her Gryffindor bravery rearing its ugly face.

Her fingers wrapped around my wrist, and I spun around in surprise.

"I don't care about how dangerous this is," She said, not a hint of doubt in her tone. "Because I'm in love with you."

In that second, she had absolutely done away with me.

In the next, I stared at her searchingly.

And in the next, my lips were on hers.

She surprised me, as always, pushing me up against the wall. I captured her bottom lip between my teeth, and it satisfied something deep within me.

Hermione Granger was in love with me.

In a familiar pattern, she slid her hands up my shirt, and I made quick work of the buttons on hers; it fell to the floor without a second thought.

I was in love with Hermione Granger.

But I'd already known that of course; it wasn't even a question. I fucking _adored_ her.

She'd somehow managed to back us into my room, and when my legs hit the back of the mattress and I fell, she climbed on top of me and started kissing, languidly, down my neck.

I groaned as she started to nibble next to my ear, and I felt myself grow hard almost instantly.

"Granger," I said gruffly.

She merely moaned in response, and resumed kissing my waiting mouth.

The heat of her on top of me, of her _pressing into me_ did things, and I felt myself grow impatient to shed the rest of my clothing. The time for taking things slow was not now; not this time.

She seemed to share my thoughts as she started unbuttoning my pants.

Before I knew it she was only left in her bra, of all things, and I was left unequally exposed. However, as her waiting core pressed hot against me I found I didn't care.

At some point in between all the fondling and groping, and _my god_ the feeling of her hand gripping my cock, I found I'd flipped us around and I was now staring down at her.

She was ridiculously perfect. And I told her so.

At that she suddenly got shy, and an incredible flush travelled all the way up her neck to her freckly face.

The sight took me aback, and I suddenly felt very serious.

"Granger…" I started, but found I was lost for words for the second time this evening. She did that; reduced men to puddles.

I didn't know how to tell her how her earlier words, how the meaning behind them had affected me. How the fact she was willing to look past how I'd taken the _Dark Mark_ , how I'd been so cowardly, in light of the fact that she was literally on the opposite side of this war than me now, made me feel. I didn't think I'd ever be able to tell her.

She shook her head, those eyes staring up at me again. "Shh," she said, as if she knew, putting her finger to my lips.

She kissed me, winding her arms around my neck.

It was then that I knew; I was not merely in love with Hermione Granger.

Hermione Granger had all of me; and I would never be willing to let her go again.


End file.
